Chapter Seven
~Hermione~
Hermione was tired, tired of fighting, tired of crying. As soon as Draco disappeared, Hermione marched up to her bedroom for a warm bath. Her mother used to tell her that a warm bath could cure any stress, any problems. With some miracle Hermione managed to find her bedroom again, the lavender walls looked comforting and her bed beckoned her to sink into its warm covers. Hermione slipped her ring off of her finger and placed it carefully on her nightstand while her bed practically begged to be laid in. She ignored its friendly calls and instead marched into the bathroom to find a large and rather spacious bathtub. She turned it up as hot as possible and, feeling rather silly, added extra bubbles to make herself feel better. Tying her hair up into a knot at the top of her head, she sank into the warm comfort of her bath. The water warmed her insides as well. She closed her eyes and let herself doze off in the bath.
When Hermione woke up the water was ice cold and she was as shriveled as a prune. She stepped out of the bath, drained the water, and wrapped herself in a warm bathrobe. Knob could lay out some old muggle clothes for her and she could go wander the gardens. It was May for heaven's sake, the sun had been tempting her all morning.
"Hey Knob I have a set of shorts in my bag if you could please pull them out for me," Hermione called, pulling her hair down while stepping out of the steamy bathroom air.
"My, my, Hermione Granger," Draco stood leaning against her doorframe, "You look stunning."
"Get out of here Draco," Hermione blushed, realizing that she was completely naked underneath her robes.
"Oh but I want to see your face when you open up my gift," he smiled softly and nodded towards her nightstand. A little black box with a green box perched on top of it was sitting proudly on top of the small wooden table.
Hermione padded softly over to it, trying not to look as curious as she was. Draco Malfoy giving her gifts? It was unheard of! She gently unlaced the silky bow, her fingers relishing in how soft of the fabric was.
"I wanted to make up for earlier," suddenly he was right behind her, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck, "I was drunk last night and Pansy was, well er- available."
Hermione flipped the box open only to find a ring nestled inside. Well, it looked like a ring at least. It was huge, intricately detailed with a large boasting emerald in the middle of it. Her name was carved into the side of it surrounded by leaves and flowers. A flashy serpent curled around the gem, its tongue flicking out to perhaps taste its prey.
"It's er- nice," Hermione didn't want to fight with Draco again. Not after this morning.
"I wanted to make our engagement official," he breathed, wrapping his arms around her waist. Engagement. Hermione's hand shot up and picked the box up from the nightstand. There was nothing else on its wooden surface. She flung the drawer open and felt inside. Nothing.
"Where is it?" Hermione spun around quickly , finding herself nose to nose with Malfoy, "My ring, Draco. Where is it?" She sunk to the ground and began searching the floor, feeling the carpet for it.
"I had it returned. You didn't need it anymore," he sounded irritated that she would even bring up a connection with Ron.
"That was the only thing I had of his," she whispered, not getting up from the ground, "And you took it from me."
"Maybe now you'll be able to forget about him," he drawled, "Now let's go, it's well past lunch. You must've been in the bath for ages."
Hermione couldn't yell at him. She felt numb. She thought of Ron who didn't deserve to be hit by that bludger. He deserved to have his fiancé to sit by his side every day and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Now the only piece of him that she had left was his child in her womb, the child that had just developed into a slight bump in her stomach. She had read all about child development when she was younger. Right now she was suffering from constant headaches and morning sickness, her breasts were tender and she was cranky. She was at about 5 or 6 weeks and her child was nothing more than a small embryo in her stomach. He was so small and yet she felt smaller and much less significant.
She found herself weakly grabbing Draco's outstretched hand, not because she liked him, but because otherwise she might not have the strength to stand. Her stomach was churning in protest, she heard Draco talking to her, and she felt his cool hands on her waist as he tried to stabilizing her.
"Are you ok?" Draco was speaking too loud, he was too close. Lavender walls spun around her. Draco's face was a foggy blur in front of her. His hands felt like ice on her sweaty skin.
"Ron," Hermione murmured, before collapsing to the ground.
~Draco~
Shit. Hermione Granger was on his bed. He had pictured this moment in several different ways but never like this. She was out cold, or rather, out hot. She had a spiking temperature and had broken out into a sweat. Her beautiful curls were now damp and plastered on her face. His fingers found the tie on her robe and he gently tugged it off of her. God, she was beautiful. There was a small swell in her lower stomach which he doubted had been there before her pregnancy. Her arms and legs were taunt and wiry, all lean muscle and soft beauty. He wanted to hug her curves and stroke her thighs. He dressed her in one of his baggy t-shirts and applied a cool rag to her forehead. His hands found hers, his calloused fingers loved the soft dimples in her hands. How could a woman that treated him so harshly be so soft and warm?
"Draco," she stirred, rolling over slightly towards him. He let go of her hand quickly, afraid that she would think that he was some sort of creep.
"You're ok princess," Draco leaned over her, feeling her forehead. Her fever had broken and the color was returning to his face.
"I feel so…strange," she snuggled closer to him, "I'm cold."
"I know," Draco reached for a blanket and tucked it around her small frame. It was well past lunch and quickly approaching dinner.
"Squeak!" Draco ordered, "Bring dinner to my room for the night."
"You should really be nicer to him," Hermione sighed before falling back asleep. Draco simply chuckled stroking her hair back.
~Hermione~
Hermione was conscious of the sheets wrapped around her body. Then she heard it, a soft snore just a foot away from her.
"WHAT THE HELL?" She flung the sheets off of her and abruptly sat up. A faded tee clung to her skin and she realized that she wasn't wearing any underwear.
"Is something wrong?" Draco groaned into his pillow. Draco. Shirtless. She was lying in Draco's bed with a shirtless Draco.
"Did we- I mean did-"
"No we didn't do it," He sat up, the sheets falling off of his well sculpted body.
"We didn't?"
"No, actually. You passed out in your bedroom yesterday and you've been in here ever since," Hermione felt herself sigh in relief. If she had Draco had actually done it she wouldn't be able to live with herself.
"Are you feeling ok?" He continued, placing his gentle hand on her forehead. The innocent touch suddenly felt so intimate.
"I'm fine, I just got a little worked up, that's all," Hermione curled her hands around her stomach, sinking further into the various pillows around her.
"I could get you a different ring if you want," Draco rolled over so he was facing her, he felt so close, "Something simpler maybe."
"No it's fine," Hermione looked at her hand to find the ring nestled on it, "I like it really."
"Really?" Draco reached out to grab her hand and she saw it, the faint green lines on the back of his left arm.
"May I see it?" Hermione whispered, reaching for his left arm. She studied his face, watching his face as he looked away from her, embarrassed. Her fingers traced the serpent on his under arm, watching the muscles in his arm ripple as he reacted to her touch. It was more than a Dark Mark, it was a harsh reminder every day of the things that he had done and seen.
"How many?" she breathed, looking up at his pale face and dark eyes.
"How many what?"
"People. How many people did you kill?" He looked so ashamed, so dirty.
"Too many," he replied, eyes clouded with memories of his past. He then reached out and grabbed Hermione's arm and ran his fingertips over it. He saw the thin scars on the inside of arm spelling out "Mudblood".
Draco sat by the fireplace, speculating how long it would take to burn alive if he threw himself into the flickering flames. The door burst open and he heard a pack of Snatchers run in, out of breath and extremely proud of themselves. Draco couldn't even bare to turn around to look at them.
"We have the boy," Greyback hissed. He heard Bellatrix shriek in excitement.
"What's wrong with his face?" Draco was suddenly curious, and he turned around to find himself staring into the glistening green eyes of Harry Potter. His face was swollen and lumpy, but the puckered scar in the middle of his forehead was distinguishably identifiable. Lucius asked Draco if it really was the great Harry Potter. He looked past him and saw his two best friends, Granger and Weasel. Draco found himself shaking his head, pretending to be uncertain. He watched Granger's face carefully, watched her twist her face in shock when he had said no. Draco turned back around to the fireplace. Bellatrix suddenly glimpsed it, the sword of Gryffindor in Greyback's hands. Bellatrix's scream of anger pierced Draco into the core. He heard Ron and Harry being dragged off downstairs and he heard his Aunt begin to interrogate Granger on when they had broken into her vaults. She nailed her with a Cruicatus, Granger's screams echoed through the halls as she writhed on the ground. Draco turned around and watched Granger cry out. She cried for her parents, she cried for her best friends, lastly she turned her head towards him and cried out his name.
Bellatrix leaned over Granger's body and began to carve into her arm. The blood dripped onto the carpet beneath them.
"Bella dear," Lucius drawled, "I don't want her filthy blood to muddy up my parlor." Bella growled and stepped back, but the damage was done. Mudblood was glistening on her arm.
Draco touched her arm just as gently as she had touched his. This was the very Manor that those scars had been given to her. She would have to live each day of her life with that reminder. He wished that he had stopped his aunt, wished that he could have saved her.
"We all have our scars Draco," Hermione gently pulled her arm away from him, pulling it away from his view, "They remind us of the things we aren't proud of, and we learn from them."
"I'm so sorry I didn't stop her," Draco reached out and began to stroke her cheek.
She nodded quietly, "I know." Before he could stop himself, Draco leaned forward and kissed her lips ever so softly, ever so gently, and ever so perfectly.
AN: Yay for longer chapters! So Bellatrix didn't really carve mudblood into Hermione's arm in the book, but I needed to give her some sort of scar so I drew inspiration from the movie. Thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing! xoxo
